King of the Society
by Nolanrmm
Summary: Alexander is a member of the Pfotenhaur society, a mercenary group. Under the command of Ms. Fate he fights for his life on the civil-war embroiled planet of Onintza. Based on Rollplay Swansong, more specifically based on the june 3200 GM turn (so far).


Disclaimer: I do not own Swan Song or Stars without Number or any of the rules and characters contained within. This is simply a fan made story based on my interest in the story being told on youtube/itmejp. I am not making any money from this story. Thank you for reading and I hope it is enjoyable.

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><p><strong>King of the Society: Proloque. Fate's Rangers.<strong>

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><p>The curious convention of the Pfotenhauer Society to refer to one another as only Mr. or Ms. followed by either a last name or chosen codename was still somewhat foreign to Alexander after these last few years. His chosen name was Basileus, a term which only some of his comrades actually understood to mean king. His actual last name was Hamilt but he would die before he carried on the legacy that name evoked. He lay in bed, thinking about what he had been through these last few months on Onintza. As he rose from his restless sleep he grabbed one of his monoblade throwing knives and performed his early morning ritual of aloof "target practice". The walls of his room were covered with deep gashes that anyone else in the society would regard with disdain along with the disheveled nature of his bed. As he started to pull his tight undershirt over his well-muscled upper body he heard the familiar base-wide blaring of the meeting signal.<p>

Absentmindedly he stroked his short scruffy beard, silently cursing the looks he would receive in regard to his unkempt appearance. Acting quickly he washed his face and glared into the mirror, seeing his long scar that ran from the top of his useless, closed, right eye to just under the ear on the same side. His brown hair was shaved and was just a little longer than the scruff that was polluting his face, the color in stark contrast to his one brilliant blue eye. He turned and pulled on the combat field uniform that had seen so much use these past month. After grabbing his mag rifle and holster containing 4 throwing knives he nonchalantly ripped the final knife from the wall and walked into the bright hallway.

As he exited his private room, a privilege non-commissioned officers of the society enjoyed, he saw Mr. White, Stark and Chrome round the corner to his right and he inclined his head. They responded with a salute and Alexander joined their up-tempo march. He appraised the mental state of each man. Both Stark and Chrome were veterans that had seen combat in many systems, with Stark serving alongside the likes of the legendary Mr. Titan. Both had declined the promotion that eventually fell to Alexander. Mr. White was not so seasoned and, although a promising tactician, his forays into combat had been underwhelming. "How you feeling boys?" Alexander asked, "Ready to take the fight to these comi rebels once again?"

It was Mr. Stark who answered first "So long as I am being well paid, I don't care who is on the other end of my spike thrower." As he finished he shifted the mag-shotgun on his burly shoulder. The Red Assault armor he wore as a frontline combatant obscured his face. Mr. Chrome seemed to agree with what his bunkmate had said and added nothing, but Mr. White shook his head.

"You ever wonder if what we're doing is right Mr. Basileus? I know Ms. Fate said these people are radicals, destroying lives and trafficking drugs, but I can't help but feel sorry for them." The scrawny kid said. Alexander still couldn't force himself to see the 20 year old as a man despite the small 8 year difference in ages. He gave Mr. White's shoulder a squeeze and tilted his head as if to say 'perhaps' and nodded to the trio before entering the officer's meeting room at which they had arrived. The trio continued on to take their places in the mess hall that would serve as a meeting room.

As Alexander stepped through the threshold of the officer's room he spotted his commanding officer and the other NCO of Fate's Rangers awaiting him. He stopped to salute the pair, Ms. Fate and Mr. Lee, before joining them around the holo-table. "Glad you could make it Alexander," Ms. Fate said with a hint of sarcasm. "There has been an important development." She flicked on a surveillance video from a high-orbit drone designation HOD-VO112 and pressed play. Lee smirked at the comment but nodded to the younger NCO as the video started to play. As the screen flickered to life the drone zoomed in on a wooded valley presumably on the southern part of Onintza. As the camera grew closer it showed the royal guard of Onintza moving in a way that they must have thought was stealthy. They were attempting to encircle a unit of post-tech infantry. A unit which was clearly newly recruited based on the sloppiness of their march and the un-weathered look of their uniforms. That was without their disregard for the "stealth" force that they should be able to see approaching.

"They're using obscuring technology of some sort," said the black haired veteran Mr. Lee sagely as he watched the video he had undoubtedly already seen. "But they're getting far too close."

As if on cue the infantry line suddenly stopped, separated, and opened fire at the outnumbered force that surrounded them. Muzzle flashes intermingled with spurts of red mist erupting from troops on both sides. Alexander shook his head disapprovingly. "What did they think would happen?" He said to no one in particular. The battle was unnecessarily bloody with substantial casualties beginning to pile up on both sides. It went on for a little while longer but eventually the Libre infantry managed to wipe out their ambushers with about a third of their own soldiers appearing unhurt. If Alexander had to guess he'd say that fifty fighting men remained, which still outnumbered the 40 mercenaries at Ms. Fate's command. "Well, that was idiotic." He said as the video feed stopped.

"Quite. So, as you can see, the rebels have been doing a fair bit of recruiting." Ms. Fate said eyes on the holo-table that now showed the valley in which the conflict had taken place. She brushed a bang of her short white-blond hair out of her face before continuing. "The time is now to strike the rebel position. They're weak and should be easily destroyed." Lee nodded along in agreement to Fate's assertion but Alexander simply rubbed his chin stubble in thought.

"I think we wait. They still out-number us and given any time will take up a defensive position. Plus, we have no idea where the unit that we hit last week will be. If we were going to capitalize it would have to have been immediately and with knowledge that no support could be supplied. How long ago was the video taken?"

"About an hour ago, but the decision's been made. We attack." Ms. Fate brokered no disagreement her blue-grey eyes intense in their focus. As she held the door for the two NCO's she gave Alexander a weary half smile and squeezed his hand after Mr. Lee had left the room.

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><p>Alexander's command consisted of the trio he had walked with earlier and the sniper that he performed spotter duties for, Mr. Jax. The trio were situated downhill from the sniper-team, about 200 yards in front of them in relation to the rebel's position. Today they would be providing over-watch until the rebels were engaged at which point the trio would flank the encampment by swinging down and around the valley. Both Stark and Chrome were in their Assault suits and Mr. White would act as backup while providing vital information on coms. He would wait until he had to relieve one of the two more senior troops. "You were right; they've dug in,"Jax said as he peered through his scope down to the rebel's location. Alexander's monocular was focused on the rebel position which consisted of three trenches set into the hill. Two trenches were dug in a sort of separated V and great effort was taken to conceal them from anyone approaching from below. The trenches were about 50 yards in length with a 25 yard gap at their closest point. In between the tops of these trenches on the start of a much steeper was the third trench. It was 25 yards in length and positioned exactly in the middle of the other two. No effort was taken to conceal this trench. If no one had been positioned on over-watch, the back trench would be the only visible emplacement to a ground force.<p>

"They must really think Fate is stupid," Alexander muttered. The trenches were practically medieval in their value. The goal of this particular formation was to draw the enemy into the center of the three trenches and catch them in a crossfire. The trenches would be impossible to approach from the rear because of the steepness of the hill behind them. In this the rebels had done well because they were weakest from that angle. Similarly it would be difficult to approach them from the side because of the hill, difficult but not impossible. Alexander flicked on his coms, "Ms. Fate, advise an approach by your commandos from the far right. Trenches will be easily visible from that position. Lee assaults from near right, reduced visibility of trenches, main priority is suppressing fire. My infantry will flank the left once you have shattered the right." Alexander knew the weakness of the rebel's tactic, their flanks were too weak to deal with a direct assault and should fall relatively quickly. "Mr. Jax will target the rear trench, odds are good that their commander is there." Jax nodded at the mention of his name and a small click signified he had zeroed his weapon to the trench's distance.

"Request permission to fire." Jax said into the coms.

"Permission denied." Came the answer from Fate. "Mr. Basileus, confirmed. Position your infantry unit to assist, Mr. Stark has command, Mr. Travers and Shadow will join with your infantry on the left. Mr. White cancel orders to act as backup, engage with your unit." After several minutes had passed and Stark had reported the arrival of his additional troops the coms squealed back to life. "Mr. Jax, fire when ready."

"Stop." A panicked voice said over coms. Alexander recognized the voice of Mr. White. "We are missing something, this makes no sense."

"Mr. White. If I want you to give me your opinion I will ask for it, maintain communications discipline." Alexander said. Although Mr. White did have a point he had violated orders and Alexander couldn't let that stand. "550 yards, wind at 10 knots, fire when ready." Alexander said to Jax while peering through his monoculars at the short trench in the rear. The report of Jax's rifle was met with a spray of blood from an undisciplined soldier's neck as he peered over the trench's edge. "Hit." Alexander said before hearing the order for attack blare in his ear. Another spray of blood erupted as Jax simply shot through the ground with his high-powered rifle, aided by the angle of attack allowed by the sniper's positioning and the angle they had dug into the hill.

The rebel troops pressed themselves tightly against their trenches wall. Taking cover from the hail of sniper fire after they watched a third comrade die. Alexander could make out the tips of their helmets but no more than that. Jax had to hold his fire, any shots now would be wasted ammunition. The seconds that followed must have been agonizing for the men in the trench as they took cover from the sniper that had attacked them with ruthless efficiency. Alexander leapt up and ran to the second firing position with Jax hot on his heels as the trenches below exploded with sound, returning fire on the sniper team. The hillside was bombarded with bullets as the two sprinted for their lives. Seconds before they reached the next position more shooting erupted from the near side of the valley; Mr. Lee had engaged. As Alexander slid into position he glanced back to see how Mr. Jax was doing. The body of the sniper was riddled with bullets, he lay face down on the hillside his chest unmoving, and one final cough escaped his lungs as his bowels released. Knowing he could do nothing Alexander ran and grabbed the high powered rifle intent on making sure he didn't allow anyone else to die.

Falling prone Mr. Basileus zeroed his sight and swung the view over towards the fighting. His training had taught him of the inefficiency of looking through your sight while moving it but he was glad he did, because it gave him a glimpse of what was coming for his comrades. On either side of the triangular formation of trenches the second unit of infantry was moving down through the trees. Silent death was approaching his comrades. "Abort, abort. Hidden infantry moving down hillside on both edges of trench formation. Retreat. Pull back to defensive positions on opposite hillside." He was surprisingly calm as he relayed the new information and punched a hole in an advancing rebel's chest with his rifle. He fired shot after shot into the previously hidden troops, which only made the others speed up. He watched nearly helplessly as they destroyed his five men on the left flank, overwhelmed by the sheer force of fire. Alexander's scope momentarily hesitated on the empty face of Mr. White's corpse as he moved to acquire another target. He continued to pick members of the large flanking force off but knew it was of little help. Eventually they returned fire and he had to displace, he ran to Mr. Jax's corpse and removed the dog tags before racing down the hill to aid in the retreat of his fellows.

As he ran down the steep slope he could see the Rebel forces on the left swinging around to attempt to cut of the retreat of the Pfotenhauer mercenaries. Thankfully, his warning was in time to save many from what would have been a massacre. He tumbled down unable to control his descent and hit his head hard before nearly blacking out. When he came to his senses the society was in full retreat and the rebels in the trenches were reluctant to leave them for fear of snipers. Over coms Ms. Fate was urging everyone to get to the landing zone.

Alexander arrived at the landing zone after tracking the others through the unfriendly mountainous terrain. When he arrived he was greeted by a hug from an uninjured Ms. Fate that he didn't feel he deserved. "I'm sorry Alecia, it's all my fault." She shook her head in disagreement but Alexander gave her a sad look and broke the hug.

He sat apart from the men and women he felt he had let down. His mistake was underestimating the rebels. He had brazenly advocated an attack at their purposefully exposed flanks, an attack that put them in direct threat from the hidden troops. As he sat there contemplating his fatal mistake Alexander felt a spike of intense pain in his temple. His head swam and he let out a strained yelp. The last image he had was of Ms. Fate running towards him as he fell to the dirt.

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><p>"Mr. Basileus, I'm getting readings that you are once again conscious. Welcome back, Ms. Fate will be relieved." Said a voice Alexander knew belonged to Mr. Ice, the unit's medic.<p>

"What happened to my head," the young NCO said as he cracked his eye momentarily blinded by the bright lights of the hospital room. He was connected to a small hospitals worth of medical equipment, the beeps and boops already started to annoy him.

"Well. And this is going to be hard to hear…"

"Just spit it out Ice. Damn." Alexander said impatiently.

"You appear to have a case of very late onset M. E. S." The doctor said with an empathetic frown.

Alexander can give him only a blank stare as the automatic door slides open.

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><p>Authors note: Once again thanks for reading, let me know if there are any glaring grammar mistakes that I glossed over.<p> 


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